She had not expected age to creep up on her so unexpectedly. Now that it had, she found herself at loose ends. Many things she had enjoyed were beyond her now.
Books, learning, teaching. Those things had always saved her. She saw the summer learning signs and the adults gathering.
She needed something to engage her. She wasn’t aging gracefully, but she had to try.
She’d always wanted to study anthropology. Maybe she could find a class and meet some people along the way.
A wave of hope washed over her as she walked toward them.
It descended upon her while she was walking through the woods. A giant web of some sort, but it didn’t seem to be finished. She heard something weaving.
She was frightened. It felt like it was grabbing at her and she tried to swipe it away.
She was coming to what seemed to be the end of it. The web had gotten smaller. The sound of weaving had gotten louder.
She fought it and tried to pull it off her. It seemed to tighten and then wrapped around her.
She walked away from her home because she needed to think. Depression and anxiety were plaguing her. She felt like she was losing her mind. Her heart was sick.
She arrived at the path that led to the ocean. She started to walk toward the ocean. She wanted it to swallow her. Maybe then she could forget.
When she got to the sculptures, she stopped and admired them. A feeling of hope washed over her. She wanted to live, really live. After standing there, she turned to walk home.
She knew what she had to do.
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting #friday Fictioneers!
“Isn’t this the way you wanted it,” Emil asked Portia as she lamented her small social circle.
“I wanted to escape my previous life. Not my present life,” Portia responded to Emil.
“Portia,” Emil responded, “I’m not sure that you can be certain you have yet escaped your previous life. How can you possibly take the chance of putting yourself out there socially?”
As Portia contemplated Emil’s question, Emil thought about how he met Portia soon after she arrived in the small Portuguese town and they became fast friends.
Portia was a fun-loving, social person who had sought a way to rid herself of baggage in her life in the U.S. A drastic way, yes. Probably not a reasonable way. Portia had been desperate and had simply walked off and left her old life behind.
Emil said, “Portia, it isn’t easy to vanish in today’s world. Even though you have a fake passport and you don’t use your credit cards, he will probably find a way to trace you if he wants to.”
Portia would never go back to him or work for him again.
Ten days passed and Portia stayed in seclusion other than having Emil with her. One night, there was a knock at the door. She opened the door to find several law enforcement officers standing there. They announced that she was under arrest and would be extradited back to the U.S.
She went with the officers, crying and screaming, with Emil following. When they got to the jail, there he stood.
“Portia,” he said, “You can stay in Portugal. I don’t want you back. I do want the million dollars you embezzled from my company back. You almost bankrupted us.”
“I don’t have it now,” she said as she cried and begged for his mercy.
”Gran, we should plant the flowers sitting on the deck. It’s such a beautiful spring day.”
”We will, Thelma,” replied Gran. “That will give us time to spend with Max.” Max was their dog who lived in a kennel behind the house.
Thelma looked out back at Max’s kennel.
”Oh no, Gran,” Thelma exclaimed. “Max is gone! He isn’t in his kennel.”
When they walked onto the deck, there was Max. He had turned over his bowl and the watering can. The flowers were out of their containers and chewed into pieces. Max looked at them with a satisfied grin.
Claire saw the old vehicle being lifted from the bottom of the lake. Her mother had drowned in that car and it was her fault. Her mom was teaching her to drive. She lost control of the car and they landed in the roadside lake.
The accident was months ago and she could see the damage to the car. Rust and a crooked door where her mom fought so hard to get out. Claire smiled, then looked around to see if anyone saw her. She had finally paid her mother back for all those injustices she’d suffered in her childhood.
”Where can we go to hide?” Amy Wu asked her fellow escapee, Chien-Chi.
”I know just the place where we can get lost,” Chien-Chi replied. “Follow me.”
Amy had escaped the mob who wanted to use her tiny Chinatown store to store weapons. She had refused. Her friend, Chien-Chi was trying to help.
Amy followed Chien-Chi as he sprinted through Chinatown, He skidded into a Chinese restaurant and she followed. It was busy and a maze. Easy to get lost.
Amy followed the owner to the back of the restaurant. There was the freezer. Her purserers stood right beside it.
She only saw the ocean once in her 78 years. A few years before she had to leave home, her brother-in-law arranged a trip to the beach for she and her sisters. They spent a week at the seashore and it was a glorious time. They had their coffee on the beach in the mornings and their nightcap at night,
She spent time collecting sea shells. She kept them in a glass dome after she returned home.
When she had to leave home for good, she took her shells. She thought of her sisters and remembered the best of times.
He hated to be the first one to leave, the first generation not to work the family farm. He had no choice because farmers had to have another job to survive. There were no other jobs where he lived in West Virginia.
The last time the greenhouse had been active was when his grandfather worked it. HIs father died young and didn’t have the chance. Now, to survive, he had to go to the city. No remote work either.
He took a last look at the old greenhouse. For an instant, he saw it thriving, but then it was gone.
“Congratulations and best wishes to the bridge and groom,” the best man toasted at the wedding. ”May you have a long and happy marriage!”
As was their custom, the best man smashed his champagne glass in the stone fireplace. One by one, the wedding guests made a wish for the happy couple and then smashed their glasses. The father of the groom shouted, ”May you have many children,” and followed suit.
After everyone left, the best man saw the champagne glass that was left.
”Oh no,” he said. “They will have 25 years of bad luck.”
The Write Scribe 